


Duel of the Fates

by SuggestiveScribe



Series: Everything You Fear to Lose [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Star Wars, Angst, Because I needed to work before the establishment of the Rule of Two, Jedi Iwaizumi, Kuroo "I'll-Definitely-Always-Shoot-First" Tetsurou, Lots of lightsaber violence, M/M, Sith Oikawa, Tension, Violence, takes place during the Old Republic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa could feel the pull within his chest. He could feel the warping of the stars and the give of will under his gaze. The Force was tugging at him, slicing open the empty distance, crushing it, and dragging together two people whose flight or fancy couldn't keep them away from their shared fate. </p><p>Oikawa felt his lip twitch. </p><p><i>Hajime</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duel of the Fates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AndthereIwas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndthereIwas/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift for [Becca](http://radio-silents.tumblr.com/)! Her friendship has given me a lot, including a partner for exchanging Star Wars x Haikyuu headcanons! I have enough thought behind all this for a 100k fic, but for better or worse I do not currently have the time to spit out a 100k fic. I attempted to create a self contained arc that wouldn't crush all the ideas buried in this universe, and it was a fun (if terrifying) challenge. Becca thank you for being a great person, and I hope you have a wonderful birthday! 
> 
>  
> 
> (yeah slap me for the title, I'm awful)

Iwaizumi pushed in through the doors of the cantina, cracking open the muffled sound of jazz and speech and allowing it to flood out behind him into the night. Smoke whirled around him as he moved, curling in response to the swish of his robes, the flick of the cloth moving over his easy gait.

His eyes grazed over the occupants easily, a trained motion. There weren't many patrons tonight; a few Twi'lek, a human or two, a Zabrak tipping a shot of something back into his throat at the bar. Iwaizumi's eyes didn't stop until they hit the Rodian bartender, and that's when he allowed a faint smile.

The Rodian huffed, giving his head a small shake.

"I'm not saying anything," he said, hand twisting a rag within a glass.

Iwaizumi's mouth pulled down into something wry, his voice coming out low and rough as he leaned on his forearms against the polish of the bar, "That's not very nice Daveek."

Daveek regarded him with those abyssal eyes of his, millions of glittering sparks of light breaking apart the deep black of his gaze like stars. When he shifted his eyes it was the controlled tilt of self contained galaxies.

"You scare away my customers," he responded, withdrawing his rag and heavily setting down his glass. "You and your robes." He flicked his hand in admonishment toward Iwaizumi, "You and your lightsaber."

Iwaizumi gave a shrug of his shoulders, face still perfectly deadpan, "Perhaps you should pride yourself on fewer shady customers."

Daveek pointed his concave fingertip at Iwaizumi, "We're neutral and you know it. I don't care if they're shady or not; I have to pay the bills."

"Yeah yeah," Iwaizumi said, tipping his head to the side to glance around the bar. There was a human kid he recognized sitting a few seats down from him, staring into an empty rocks glass.

"Order something," Daveek interrupted irritably.

"Give me whatever that kid had," Iwaizumi said with a tilt of his head down the bar.

"I don't remember what he had," Daveek answered easily.

"You're a horrible bartender."

"You're a horrible customer."

Iwaizumi almost coughed a laugh. "Then get me the usual and then drink it yourself," Iwaizumi slid a credit chip across the counter. "I don't want anything."

Daveek glared at him, then mumbled something in Rodese. It sounded a bit foul.

Iwaizumi was already moving on, taking a few easy paces along the side of the bar to stand next to the young human he recognized. The boy acknowledged him, then did a double take when his eyes caught at Iwaizumi's garb. He moved to stand, more inclined to leave than stand the test of a Jedi's gaze, but before he could wrap his gaped mouth around a word Iwaizumi flicked his wrist in front of him, "You want to play Pazaak with me."

The kid blinked and Iwaizumi blinked back, and the next time his mouth moved it was into a smile, "Hey, you want to play a game of Pazaak?"

"Sure," Iwaizumi responded, face resting in an expression he intended to be easy and disarming. He had a tendency to fail at that. "Why not."

As they moved to settle over at a Pazaak table Daveek was glaring at the side of Iwaizumi's face, spitting something in Rodese again. It was definitely foul.

In a cantina this small and quiet it was too difficult to chase after the information Iwaizumi needed. He had to make use of something to keep his head dipped and voice low, his attention focused on someone else without looking like he was interrogating them.

Whether he was or not.

They moved and resettled at a Pazaak table and Iwaizumi initiated a new game. "We don't see many like you around," the kid commented as he pulled out his chair, .

"Like me," Iwaizumi repeated with an amused grin on his face, pulling a card off the top of the main deck.

"Jedi."

Iwaizumi could see a few of the patrons tilting their head to watch him, their focus settling against his skin like a tingling, prickling thing.

"We do see the other folks every now and then though."

Iwaizumi went still. This boy was chatty enough that Iwaizumi wasn't sure he'd have to coerce much out of him. "Do you?" he asked in retort anyway, because it seemed natural. "Have you recently?"

"Mmm," the kid hummed in thought as he drew his own card. It was higher, so it was his start. "Oh, yeah. Maybe a week or so ago."

_So the information we'd received had been true._

"They cause any trouble?" Iwaizumi asked mildly, an attempt at not appearing overeager.

"No, nothing like that," he answered, leaning back in his seat. He flipped the card off the top of the main deck, displaying it on the table. He glanced at his hand and chewed on his lip.

Iwaizumi watched him, but he didn't seem inclined to continue discussing the Sith. "You know who they were talking to?"

The kid chose the card from his hand and laid it out, then blinked at Iwaizumi in confusion, "What?"

Iwaizumi's mouth twisted around, "The..." his eyes narrowed, "the other guys."

" _Oh_ ," he cooed. He motioned to the deck for Iwaizumi to turn over a card, which Iwaizumi did unthinkingly. "Well I didn't talk to him," he said as Iwaizumi laid the card on the table.

"Did anyone?" Iwaizumi asked, blinking down at the card on the table and the ones in his hand.

The kid rubbed at his eyes, "Just a few of the officers from Karzak Station." His hand stalled over his face, "Do you know Karzak Station? The little space station in orbit around us up--"

"Yes," Iwaizumi said with a nod a bit too quick and a bit too heavy. _It's one of our allied supply stations_.

Iwaizumi felt his skin flush hot as he threw down his own card. The boy was back to examining his hand, his mind a bit slow and indecisive. Iwaizumi's eyes were jumping over the cards, unseeing.

_A Sith, talking to officers from our supply station._

Iwaizumi's eyes slid to the side as he saw movement, the indiscreet shuffle of legs and a cloak pulled over a head as they moved to walk past him and toward the entrance--

Iwaizumi turned, catching only a sliver of smooth blue skin and the dim glow of a red eye, but he recognized the boots, the vest, the garb of a Karzak Station employee. He reached out, "Exc--"

The passerby lurched, taking one quick step forward as they withdrew a blaster from their belt, squeezing the trigger three times in quick succession.

Iwaizumi jumped into a standing position, lightsaber in his grasp and sparking to life before he even had time to think about the motion. He whipped his arm forward, the glowing blue of his blade growling as he twirled it twice in front of him to deflect the first two shots and then swinging at the third with one hand, batting it off to the side. There was the vague sound of glass shattering as one of the parried shots pierced through a bottle of liquor behind the bar, but Iwaizumi didn't have time to divide his attention because the person in question was already running, bolting through the front doors of the bar.

Iwaizumi chased after them, shoving through the doors and out into the quiet of the night. His feet halted for half a moment as he glanced to the side to track his target, and then he saw them, hood falling away from her face as she ran up toward the building next door and shot power into the pack on her back.

Her feet left the ground, body steady as she flew parallel to the side of the building until her feet could touch at the rooftop. Iwaizumi followed, lightsaber sheathing itself as he chased her, and when he reached the wall of the building he jumped, forcing power and strength beyond his own into his legs.

He jumped high, hands and feet grappling at the brick and gripping the edge of the rooftop. He swung himself over and immediately launched into a run.

She tossed a glance behind her, black hair unfurling in front glowing red eyes and cool blue skin, and shot a few panicked shots behind her.

Iwaizumi slid his thumb over the grip of his saber and the blade snapped into focus just before he slapped away her shots.

She did a double take, then refocused in front of her, legs picking up speed, and flung herself hard off the edge of the building, the propulsion units at her back and feet sending her easy over the empty drop below.

Iwaizumi didn't hesitate in front of the gap. Rather he ran faster, harder, and upon hitting the edge he threw himself forward, Force energy exploding outward from his feet and his back, sending him sailing over the gap. His feet hit the graveled roof of the next building, and this time the Chiss woman's eyes at least had the decency to look afraid. She stumbled once, squeezing her trigger and sending sloppily aimed bolts over her shoulder. Iwaizumi defected them with quick precision, feet still moving, and then he blinked his focus in front of her. He reached forward, grasping at an electrical wire with tendrils of power blooming out from his palm, and he yanked his fist upward.

The line snapped up like a whip, catching at the Chiss' ankles and forcing her to trip. She fell heavily onto the roof, palms catching against gravel, and Iwaizumi lunged on top of her.

She managed to squeeze one shot free and Iwaizumi slapped it away with irritation before slamming his palm against her chest and digging his knees into the gravel around them.

She coughed, eyes flinching closed and teeth gritting together.

"Just stop," he advised mildly, lightsaber drawn back behind him but still purring a constant reminder in both light and sound.

She opened her eyes, no iris or pupil but rather just all glowing red, and Iwaizumi could feel the disgust in them, "Jedi make a habit of going after random civilians?"

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, "I don't have time for this game." He sighed as she lurched against the pressure of his palm just to find him easy and unmoving, "Tell me what you know about the Sith visit."

Her feet shuffled against the gravel beneath them, her gaze tilting away.

"How many were there?" he asked, thinking that perhaps specific questions could yield specific answers.

"Just the one," she answered reluctantly, still not making eye contact.

"And what did they want?"

She shifted beneath Iwaizumi, but it was an attempt at comfort rather than escape. "He wanted information on the Karzak Station defenses," she answered. "Simple things. What and how many."

Iwaizumi pursed his lips into a flat line. They stared at each other for a moment before he said, " _And?_ "

"And what?" she spat, lip hooking up in irritation.

"And did you tell him?" Iwaizumi asked.

Her eyes narrowed, and all of the irritation left her face in favor of something venomous and proud. " _Yes_ ," she hissed.

Iwaizumi dipped down closer to her face, blinking in disbelief, " _Why?_ "

"Because you're not going to win the war!" she barked. "No matter how much you pretend it's not a war, no matter how much you believe in the justice of your 'Force', _they_ are stronger and _they_ know how to win the will of the people."

Iwaizumi stared at her, emotions simmering out into something calm in his limbs. "The will of the people," he repeated, almost softly, a bit intrigued.

She tipped her chin up, defiant even in her position, "They cater to people's feelings."

Iwaizumi's shoulders felt heavy, and he heard his lightsaber hum as the grip shifted in his palm. He sighed, face placid, "When are they going to assault Karzak Station?"

"Within the next standard day," she answered without hesitation.

Iwaizumi sheathed his saber, the crackle a loud tell as the blade withdrew into the hilt. He leaned back onto his ankles, releasing the pressure against her chest and pulling his arm up to his mouth. He spoke into the receiver on his wrist, "Watari, ready the ship for Coruscant."

"Yes sir."

Iwaizumi stood, offering the Chiss a hand. She ignored it, standing on her own and dusting off the back of her pants. Iwaizumi almost bothered to shrug as he turned to leave, but her voice stopped him, "You're going to lose this battle."

Iwaizumi paused, turning his head to cast an even glance over his shoulder. She was smirking.

"Why?" he asked, the nonplussed tone of his voice barely managing to lilt into a question.

Her smirk unfurled into a full smile, dark and confident, "Because he's stronger than you are." Iwaizumi tilted his chin up and she continued, "I'm only mildly Force sensitive and I could still feel it."

"Who?" Iwaizumi asked, brow furrowing.

"Some human," she answered easily. She cocked her eyebrow up, "A human who used to be a Jedi like you." Iwaizumi felt his blood go cold, his skin matting with a fresh sheen of sweat. Her grin widened, the white catching the light of multiple moons and breaking through the dark part of her lips, "I believe his name was... Oikawa?"

Iwaizumi stared at her, physically willing his eyes not to blow wide and his hands to stay steady. He could practically feel his voice in the air, the slide of brown eyes gone gold, the touches and whispers that came so naturally to him. Iwaizumi should have known, should have sensed him.

The council would tell him it was good their bond had started to fade.

Iwaizumi felt roiling unease in his gut.

"Well that got your attention," she said as she moved to stride past him. "Good luck, Jedi." Then she paused next to him, lips moving into the breathy coo of a whisper next to his ear, " _You're going to need it._ "

 

***

 

The engine's purr was the only thing audible in the ship. Beyond the windows was an expanse of the deepest and most endless black, pure dots of starlight thrown into millions of constellations working to break it into something beautiful.

Oikawa almost made a face. His skin suddenly crawled, reflexively shivering over his muscles. "Oh, that's..." Oikawa swallowed as if he was attempting to down something bitter.

Kuroo turned around in his seat at the cockpit, casting a look of almost-concern over his shoulder, "What?"

"I don't know really," Oikawa mused, crossing his arms over his chest and keeping his eyes steady out the window. "It's like I got a nasty whiff of something Jedi."

Kuroo cocked his eyebrow, "Maybe it's that decade old saber at your hip."

Oikawa shot him a despairing glance only to be received with the uneven tilt of Kuroo's grin. Oikawa's eyes slid forward again, "No, it's more like palpable self-righteousness and an ill placed sense of justice managed to waft in through an air filter."

Kuroo huffed a laugh, "Perhaps the Master Sith woke up sensitive today." Kuroo was teasing as much as he wasn't, and Oikawa knew that.

He waved Kuroo off. "Keep your eyes on the stars," he chastised. "Do your job."

Kuroo gave a heavy shrug, "We're on autopilot."

Oikawa gave him a quick glance, "What do I even pay you for?"

"Hmm," Kuroo hummed thoughtfully. "To change the air filters and make sure no self righteousness seeps in, I suppose."

Oikawa's head dipped down and his hand rose to stifle his laugh as the communicator behind him buzzed for attention. Oikawa turned around, blinking the smile off his face as he took the few small paces to light the hologram.

"Oikawa sir."

Oikawa blinked at the buzzing electronic rendition of the Chiss woman he'd stayed in contact with for the purpose of his raid on Karzak Station.

"Nalish," Oikawa greeted, the accent on his tongue foreign enough to at least sound like an attempt at proper pronunciation. "What warrants a call at such an odd hour for you?"

Nalish straightened her back, "I just made contact with a Jedi."

Oikawa blinked once over at Kuroo as a sort of "I-told-you-so" and Kuroo just shrugged, "At least it wasn't my air filters."

Oikawa pursed his lips and continued. "Made contact," he repeated when his gaze had returned to her holographic form. "What does that mean?"

"That means he chased me down and demanded information from me," she answered tersely.

"Oh," Oikawa said, the corners of his mouth pulling down in hyperbolic thought. "Quite brash for a Jedi."

"He gave me no choice," Nalish said, completely ignoring Oikawa's commentary.

His eyes narrowed, arms still crossed over his chest, "What did you tell him?"

Her gaze skirted to the side, "They know you'll be attacking the station within the next standard day." Oikawa opened his mouth, not entirely sure if it was for speech or a sigh, but she went on, "And he knew your name."

Oikawa's mouth stalled open, then eventually closed after a blink. "Many of them do," his voice as flippant as it was pompous. "Although I'm curious to know _why_ you told him my name in the first place."

She didn't hesitate, "I wanted him to be afraid."

"Flatterer," Kuroo mumbled off to the side, swinging back in forth in his chair. Oikawa chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"He was a strange one," Nalish mused. "The face he made when I said your name."

Oikawa stilled with his fingers at his chin, eyes rising to meet hers without a shift of his head.

 _No_.

Oikawa licked his lip, biting at it for a moment before speaking, "Who was this Jedi."

"A human," she answered with a shrug. "Short dark hair. Tan skin. Steely kind of eyes and a constantly irritated expression."

Oikawa felt a purr of energy rumble beneath his skin.

"Ah," was all he said, dropping his hand and straightening as he broke eye contact. "Thank you for the information." Oikawa turned to look back out the view window.

"Should I make any changes?" she asked.

"No," Oikawa answered easily, waving her off without offering her his gaze. "It's fine."

"Thank you for your time sir."

Oikawa didn't say anything, only waited to hear the soft buzz of the hologram go silent as she ended the call.

There was a silence, and then Kuroo's low voice, "Are we going to alter our time schedule?"

"No," Oikawa said without looking at him. "We won't."

"Oikawa--"

"If we attempt to go early," Oikawa cut him off, "I won't be able to bring along my help in the form of the Sith Assassins waiting for me back at the base. Even I'm not brazen enough to attempt taking on a group of Jedi alone." Kuroo was silent, so Oikawa continued, "If I put it off for a short time, the Jedi will simply fortify the Station with defenses and numbers."

Kuroo sighed, "And we have to cut off the supply chain soon, so--"

"Yes," Oikawa said with a nod, giving him a very vague glance out the corner of his eyes.

"This is going to go a lot less smooth than I was initially hoping."

Oikawa rolled his eyes, "You don't even _do_ anything."

"I sit in the ship!" Kuroo responded in offense. "I offer a bit of weaponry and a getaway!"

Oikawa's lips almost tilted into a smile, but they were wavering around something... something...

"Well," Kuroo went on without prompting and swiveled around in his seat, "as long as I get my money and get out alive I don't care. And you promised me a vacation afterward."

"Yes of course," Oikawa droned. "You'll get your time off."

Oikawa's eyes went back to gazing out the window, his thumb pinching at the plush skin of his bottom lip. In truth, he could call off the entire endeavor for an extended period of time. It would be a pain, and it would cause some issues in the grander scheme of things, but he _could_... if he had any desire to.

In the end, Oikawa wasn't that worried about a little squad of Jedi. He wasn't that concerned with whatever small force they could muster to oppose him. What he _was_ interested in was...

For a moment Oikawa caught his own gaze, the reflection of gold irises that felt more like his than the others ever did, the faintest hint of red ghosting at the edges-- a threat to others, but also to himself.

Oikawa could feel the pull within his chest. He could feel the warping of the stars and the give of will under his gaze. The Force was tugging at him, slicing open the empty distance, crushing it, and dragging together two people whose flight or fancy couldn't keep them away from their shared fate.

Oikawa felt his lip twitch.

_Hajime._

 

***

 

When they landed on Coruscant the sky was dark but the streets were bright, gold and neon lighting alleyways and sparking the skyline with jagged spires of life.

"Iwaizumi."

Iwaizumi glanced to the side as his legs carried him forward. "Kindaichi," he greeted. "I need to speak with Master Takeda. Do you know where he is?"

Kindaichi gave a quick nod, and even though his long legs shouldn't have trouble keeping up with Iwaizumi, his pace still looked as if he was struggling to stay in step, "He's in the Temple. Master Irihata is in a council meeting."

Iwaizumi blinked over to him, "This late?"

"Yes Master."

Iwaizumi shook his head, "I guess it's no matter. Master Takeda will tell him anyway. Take me to him."

Kindaichi lead Iwaizumi up the steps and through the grand entryway of the temple. "How did things go?" he asked mildly, glancing back and forth between the path in front of him and Iwaizumi's face.

"I'll say..." Iwaizumi considered, "fortunate."

Kindaichi's head bobbed, his expression obviously showing that he had no idea how to interpret that response.

"Ah, I see your Padawan found you."

Master Takeda shuffled around the length of a table in the library, hand flitting up to push his eyeglasses more firmly onto the bridge of his nose. "Indeed," Iwaizumi answered, "but we need to commune with Master Irihata immediately."

Takeda blinked, big brown eyes wide and concerned under the reflection of his lenses, "What happened on your mission Hajime?"

Iwaizumi straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, "I spoke with a Chiss worker from Karzak Station. She had recently been in contact with a Sith."

Takeda pursed his lips, eyes falling away to the floor for a moment, "We'd heard such a thing, but I never thought..."

"The Sith are planning to siege the station in the next standard day," Iwaizumi informed him. "We need to gather some men to defend or disperse an open assault as soon as possible."

"Agreed," Takeda said, voice troubled and breathy. He glanced at Iwaizumi, "I'll speak with Master Irihata. Plan on leading a team tomorrow."

Iwaizumi stared at him. He should lead the team. He _should_ , he was _able_ , but...

_Tell him. Don't tell him._

**_You have to let him know._ **

"It's Oikawa."

Takeda and Kindaichi both flinched in place, almost as if physically startled, and then their gazes went still on Iwaizumi's face.

"Oikawa is the one leading the charge on the station," Iwaizumi elaborated after a clearing of his throat.

Takeda bit his lips together for a moment, "Ah. I see."

Kindaichi glanced down at Takeda, hands moving from their clasped position behind his back, "We don't have any other Jedi Knights in the area, I'm sure Iwaizumi would--"

"No, no," Takeda said, holding up his hand to Kindaichi. He blinked slow and then brought his gaze to Iwaizumi's face. "You'll lead the team tomorrow," he repeated with a focused gaze and clear syllables. "Be ready."

Iwaizumi let go of a quiet sigh of relief, his shoulders falling a bit with the release of tension, "Thank you Master."

Takeda smiled, the corners of his mouth genuine enough to light his eyes before they squeezed shut. "I'll speak to Master Irihata tonight," he added easily. "Get some rest."

Iwaizumi gave a deep nod, then turned on his heel to walk toward his quarters. His hands were slow to release behind his back, fingers wringing nervously as he walked. He thought of tomorrow, of what laid before him, and he was anxious.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, but found it did nothing to quell the incessant flutter in his chest.

 

 

*

 

When Iwaizumi dreamt, he couldn't tell if it was of his past or someone else's.

Often times he was staring at a pane of dirtied glass, a window through the worn down wooden walls of a place he no longer recognized. The memories were projections of images against the fogged window, winding and flickering like a bad recording, colors bleary and smudged in the grime. Just beyond the barrier, just beyond the haze of the glass Iwaizumi could barely make out motion behind it, figures moving outside the divisive nature of the wall.

They moved in tandem, the images. The projections fell into barely-out-of-time step with the organic life behind them. Swinging arms, bobbing nods of agreement, bright white, split open smiles. Iwaizumi could hardly tell the difference, could barely separate the motions of the real with the digital projection, and it was unsettling. It was like being able to see the trail of someone's steps, ghosting left behind by a presence too big.

Iwaizumi never saw his own face. Instead he saw the bright brown of another's eyes, watched the growth and struggle of someone who felt too hard and too much. He watched his back, watched him drag them both forward with nothing but his own will.

Tiny hands that clung small and hot to his own grew large and rough, calloused by combat and too much training. But every now and then they would still cling, still hot, to Iwaizumi's own, and the presence of him sunk beneath Iwaizumi's very skin, lit his nerves and sparked his blood.

Iwaizumi watched, eyes catching. Maybe the figures moving outside the wall were taller.

Iwaizumi moved, touched his fingers to the pane of glass, watched the images scroll and fade over his fingertips. If he had the energy to smile, it would have been sad. His fingers touched against a jaw that he could never touch.

Then his eyes flickered upward, and through the window the motions stopped, falling out of rhythm with the projections of the past, and the eyes that stared back at him were red and gold.

Iwaizumi started, choked on a breath, the gold eyes sliding away from him as his mind erupted into consciousness.

When Iwaizumi dreamt, he couldn't tell if it was of the past or the future.

 

***

 

"OIKAWA!"

Oikawa shot upright, hand flying forward and clenching hard with the weight of the Force in his palm.

Kuroo was gripping his own throat with one hand, his blaster rifle extended in the other. It was pointing at Oikawa.

Kuroo's lip hooked into a sneer as his hand shook, and his finger lightly squeezed at the trigger.

Oikawa realized, as much due to the look on Kuroo's face as the crawling itch of heat around his eyes what was happening, and dropped his arm.

Kuroo's entire body dropped, and Oikawa became aware too slowly that his feet hadn't been on the ground. Everything else in the room also stirred, falling a few inches and landing with heavy thuds around him.

Oikawa sighed and closed his eyes, wiping at his sweat sheened forehead with his hand.

"You were shaking the entire damned cabin," Kuroo complained, rubbing at his throat. "What kind of bad dream were you having?"

Oikawa's eyes slid open, "Sorry." There was a silence as Kuroo took in the weight of Oikawa's deflection. Oikawa pinched the bridge of his nose, "What time is it."

"We're almost to the base," Kuroo answered, straightening his back and holstering his pistol.

Oikawa's legs spilled over the side of his cot, "Thanks for not shooting me this time."

Kuroo's eyebrow cocked upward, "You were a few seconds away."

"I realize that."

Kuroo waved his hand at him as he turned to move back toward the cockpit, "I'd prefer not to, you know. I never know when you're going to go completely crazy and snap my neck."

Oikawa blinked his gaze down into his lap. "I'm not crazy," he mumbled.

Kuroo turned back around, "What?"

"Nothing," Oikawa answered with a shake of his head. "I'll be out in a minute so we can dock."

"Thanks."

Kuroo disappeared down the corridor, silent. He was the only smuggler Oikawa had ever come across brazen enough to stare Oikawa in the face, to speak to him like a person rather than a Sith, like his naturally gold eyes gave him some sort of immunity to Oikawa's acquired ones.

Oikawa would continue to pay him handsomely for that alone.

Oikawa ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. His vision felt unclear, like murky water or fogged glass.

When he opened them again it was with vicious clarity. If he was right about what was coming for him today, he would need his focus. Even in spite of the spectres of his dream and his anxiousness, Oikawa felt himself smirk.

 

***

 

Iwaizumi glanced at where the sun hung in the sky. His legs took him at a pace closer to a run than a walk. Why Master Takeda and Irihata had insisted he tutor Kindaichi this morning of all mornings, he couldn't understand. He had followed the orders calm and without question, and the exercises in Force control and the Fourth Form with his Padawan had done well to dislodge the unease caused by his dream. But he was fretting again, worried for the time they'd wasted.

When he found Master Takeda he was standing alongside Irihata, hands clasped together and hidden under his robes. When he saw Iwaizumi the easy slide of his smile wavered.

"Masters," Iwaizumi greeted. "I have finished with Kindaichi. Have you alerted the other team members?"

Takeda visibly swallowed before casting his eyes over toward Irihata. His body was shifting like he was consciously forcing away idle nervousness.

Irihata's cold gaze slid over to Iwaizumi. He next sentence was clean and short, "They already left."

There was a silence.

Iwaizumi felt warmth bloom up from his chest. His fist clenched beside him. "Excuse me?" he asked politely. "They already _left?_ "

Irihata's lips pursed into a flat line. His stare looked like a challenge.

_Take it. Don't take it._

"May I ask," Iwaizumi went on, treading carefully over the current of emotion attempting to creep into his voice. "Who you sent, exactly?"

"We sent Kai and his Padawan," Irihata answered cooly. "Along with Watari and a couple mercenaries."

"A single Jedi Knight," Iwaizumi repeated, "and a couple Padawan."

Irihata tipped his head at Iwaizumi, "Is it much different from sending you and Yuutarou?"

Iwaizumi's eyes grew wide, "You should have sent _all_ of us."

Irihata looked away from him, "Oikawa is probably going to be the only remarkable Sith present; they wouldn't waste men on such a small station."

Iwaizumi felt the burn flood through his limbs, crackling up his veins to clench his jaw tight around his words, " _Oikawa is too strong for them._ " Iwaizumi pressed his hand against his chest, "I am the strongest Knight you have available, and Kindaichi is almost as strong as Kai, this is--"

"Listen, Hajime," Master Takeda was saying, holding up his hands and squinting a nervous smile through his eyeglasses, "let us explain before you allow yourself to anger."

"Allow myself to--" Iwaizumi dug his teeth into his bottom lip, biting down on his words and grounding them into the back of his throat. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides before his eyes opened and focused heavy on Takeda's face, " _Explain?_ " He pointed vaguely at the sky, past the moons that were blaring bright in the afternoon sun, "You just sent a bunch of men to get _killed_."

"No no no," Takeda combated, palms waving back and forth as if they could deflect Iwaizumi's negativity. "They're all very capable men."

"You said you would send _me_ ," Iwaizumi said, taking a step forward and blinking hot and wild into Takeda's eyes. "You _knew_ I was the best chance at leading them out alive."

Takeda glanced at Master Irihata, and he just gave a single nod. "Hajime," Takeda repeated in his best disarming tone, a tone that did nothing for Iwaizumi when he was in such a state, "the Council was worried." Takeda blinked once, big brown eyes flat as they blocked out any view of personal feeling on the matter, "About your past."

Iwaizumi felt his stomach boil, and he elected to keep his mouth pinched shut.

"With Tooru," Takeda went on with an inclination of his chin. "You two were very close, you grew up together--"

"He's a _Sith_ ," Iwaizumi almost hissed, throwing out his hand. He felt his face beginning to burn red, "It doesn't... matter anymore." Iwaizumi had thoughts, flashes of something, but he buried them before paying them any true mind.

"In any case," Takeda continued, "I'm sure you can understa--"

"I don't," Iwaizumi interrupted tersely, earning himself a disapproving glance from Master Irihata. His face was set into hard lines, mouth pulling down as he spoke, "When did they leave?"

Takeda glanced at Irihata again. "Well," Takeda began, dragging his gaze back to Iwaizumi before squeezing his eyes closed to match the forced pinch of his smile, "they left while you were tutoring Yuutarou..."

There was a flash of anger, hot against his throat, before Iwaizumi could swallow the emotion down. There was still a small threat of it in his voice, a low rumble, "You mean when you purposefully sent me off with Kindaichi so I wouldn't know."

"The way you're reacting is only demonstrating that the Council made a wise decision," Master Irihata said, eyeing Iwaizumi carefully.

"I'm offended," Iwaizumi said, shaking himself of his bitterness and straightening his back, "that I'm regarded with such little trust after so long." Takeda's eyes slid away from them both, mouth wavering down around the corners. "And I'm leaving," Iwaizumi continued after a beat of silence. "So I can help the men you uselessly endangered."

Takeda's chin hitched up at that, "Wait, Hajime--"

"I'll deal with the fallout when I get back," Iwaizumi droned over his shoulder, feet quickly guiding him toward docking for their shuttles.

_And so will you._

 

***

 

A Sith Assassin strode on either side of Oikawa while one followed silent in their wake, their uniform black robes forcing them all into startling similarity. To an untrained eye sweeping over the lot of them there could be one or ten; it was difficult to track when you were in fear for your life from masked warriors who could slink in and out of the shadows easier than most could walk.

It was quiet. Oikawa pointed to the first door, but didn't stop for it. He felt a loss of a presence beside him as one of his men stopped, then heard the automatic _whish_ of the door sliding open. Even Oikawa couldn't hear the footsteps, but he could hear a quick slice and a drop, the heavy thud of a body falling.

The sound of it was almost lost beneath his footsteps.

There was a single blink of space before his assassin rejoined them, in step like he'd never left.

Oikawa's face was held in easy amusement, corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly as his eyes swept down the long corridor. Such a tiny base. Too bad.

That's when he stopped, soft soled boots going still and quiet on the tile. His men halted beside him, bothering not with a shift in their gaze or air of confusion. They were perfect soldiers, and they were waiting.

Oikawa felt it. It was a feeling he once had, long long ago, and had wondered where it had went over time. It was a growl in his bones, vibrating forth from the very marrow of him, and it lit his skin into tingling sensation. He actually raised his hand and skimmed the pad of his thumb over his fingertips, almost convinced it was a thrill in the air he could capture.

Oikawa's eyes grew wide along with his smile, mania crawling into his flesh.

It wasn't a feeling he had once had. It was a feeling _someone else_ had once had.

Oikawa dropped his hand, head tilting forward as he peered up through his eyelashes, " _Ooh_."

Oikawa glanced out the windows of the station, the blackened void pierced with sparks of light going on for an endless eternity. But the air was moving, space was warping around ships and frowns and sabers, and he could _feel_ the buzz of energy they carried with them. Oikawa lolled his head back forward lazily, dark grin unfurling his lips into something amused and sinister.

"Hurry up with these ones boys," he told the assassins, heavy strides moving him down the empty corridor. His lips caught at one side, making his smile go lopsided, "Looks like the Jedi arranged a play date for us."

There were curt nods, gruff grunts beneath thin folds of fabric over mouths, and then the assassins slipped forward, sliding into shadows and sprinting soundlessly down the halls. Oikawa unhooked the lightsaber from his waist with an easy flick of fingers and gave it a quick twirl, "Now then." He stopped at the mouth of the corridor and listened for the first gasping scream, and the following broken breath gone flat and silent. Then there was the peal of the alarm, and the bland white hallways pulsed bright and red in warning. He smiled.

His thumb slipped over the hilt of his lightsaber and the blade extended with a satisfying purr of energy. He tilted his head, "Where to first?"

 

***

 

Iwaizumi had sensed them fall.

When he walked into the station it was too quiet, even the alarm gone muted and muffled after having so many rooms blown apart in fighting.

He couldn't hear anything, could barely _feel_ anything save for the one undercurrent of emotion running through the fiber of his muscles. That meant as much as he'd already realized-- most of their men had fallen.

But it also meant Oikawa's men had too.

The rhythmic bleat of the alarm sounded off in another corridor. His feet moved faster, down the sterile hallway until he reached the door opening up to the main hub.

The doors slid open, the hiss of air severing the quasi silence of the room.

The room opened up, and there framed in the doorway was Oikawa, looming over someone with his hand tangled in their hair as they sat collapsed on their knees, withdrawing his crimson saber from where it pierced through their back and out their chest.

As he withdrew his saber he tipped his head back, barring his neck at a taunting angle, and when his bright gold eyes caught Iwaizumi's, he smiled.

Iwaizumi felt both of his hands clench into fists.

" _Oh_ ," Oikawa said, freeing his hand of the tangle of the other's hair and allowing the corpse to drop heavily to the floor, "you're a bit late."

Iwaizumi couldn't decipher the things he felt inside, couldn't tell if he was boiling or freezing, if he was out of control or impossibly focused.

Oikawa moved to face him more squarely, black robes swishing around his limbs, "I knew you'd come."

The tension in the air mounted like it was pulled directly from Iwaizumi's chest. He felt the crackle, the heat that threaded them together, and it tugged at his heart. He felt his breath quickening as he looked at him, poisonous gold eyes that should repulse him but didn't, red saber purring in his hand that should scare him but couldn't, bodies strewn around the room that should ignite his anger, but--

Oikawa's lips parted, and the hard golden cut of his eyes went molten. Glowing.

Iwaizumi touched his hand to his saber.

"Iwaizumi--"

"Don't call me that," Iwaizumi retorted before he could think, before he could get a handle on himself at all.

Oikawa's lips tilted, thinly veiled pleasure that sewed itself into the whispering taunt of his voice, "What should I call you then?"

Iwaizumi stared at him. It had never been 'Iwaizumi'. Not since before apprenticeships and training missions, since before bunk beds and monsters, tightly held, shaking clutches late at night when their world got too harsh and too scary for the both of them. It had always, _always_ , been--

"Hajime."

Iwaizumi's palm curled around his lightsaber. His chest was inflated with air, his eyes were hot, and he was perfectly still because the other option was trembling.

Oikawa's chest hitched, and Iwaizumi realized he could feel it. Oikawa could _feel_ him, and Iwaizumi could probably feel him too, if he ever took the time to try and tell the difference between Oikawa's emotions and his own.

"They kept you from coming, didn't they?" Oikawa asked, taking a slow and silent step forward. His eyes darkened, "The Council?"

Iwaizumi swallowed, his throat dry, and his thumb slid over the grip of his saber, ready.

Oikawa glanced around at the piles of Jedi Robes dotting the floor, then looked back to him, "They got your friends killed."

" _You_ ," Iwaizumi said, voice rough and shaking, "killed them."

Oikawa stopped. Energy pulsed between them. It was as magnetic as it was repellant; waves of it flushing against their skin, sinking into a rhythm like a mounting heartbeat.

Iwaizumi felt his heart starting to beat out of time. It stuttered, it fell, beat by frantic beat, into that rhythm.

Oikawa took a step forward. Iwaizumi took a step back.

" _Hajime_ ," he whispered.

Iwaizumi glanced at the saber in Oikawa's hand. The handle was curved, nestled into his palm like it belonged. The new angle the curve provided would be just enough to render most of his previous sparring knowledge against Oikawa useless.

"They're controlling you," Oikawa told him, softly. It was the softest pressure, the most caring manipulation.

Iwaizumi pulled his saber from his belt, arm held down by his side, "And you're not?"

Oikawa's eyes were large, wide as if baring every glassy millimeter of them would make him more honest. His pupils struck Iwaizumi's gaze like focused daggers, "Tell me. Am I?"

The prickling heat crawled up his neck and over his face. He stared at Oikawa. He stared at the wide open, naked, completely bare depth of his gaze.

Iwaizumi's thumb moved over his saber and the blade purred out of the hilt, the pale blue cutting through the haze of red, "It doesn't matter."

Oikawa's head tilted almost imperceptibly, his top lip hooking into a sneer. Iwaizumi watched his eyes go dark, swirling into anger. " _It doesn't matter_ ," he hissed. He brought his lightsaber forward, the blade humming its threat as one of Oikawa's feet slid backwards, "Sounds like the Council's teachings." Oikawa's voice took on a tremor of condescension, "Ignore the flaws," then shivered out into anger, "bury what's important."

Iwaizumi stepped into his stance, energy flooding his limbs and forcing his breaths out in quick, steady huffs.

 _Don't do this, don't fight him._ Iwaizumi blinked, squeezing his eyes shut for a single flash of the alarm. _You must._

When Oikawa tipped his head back and sneered at Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi tried not to think about his stance. He tried not to think about the Seventh Form vibrating through Oikawa's limbs, the malignant grace of it apparent even while he was standing still.

_He could kill you._

Iwaizumi's grip tightened around his saber.

_Even if you could, would you?_

Iwaizumi rushed forward, leaping without a second's hesitance. His lightsaber smashed against Oikawa's; he spun and swung at his back and Oikawa blocked that with a quick motion behind his head, shoving Iwaizumi backward with the strength of his parry. Then he turned, forcing Iwaizumi back into the central hub by cleaving his saber against Iwaizumi's with reckless abandon.

Iwaizumi stepped backward, deflecting each attack with all his strength because that's the only way he _could_ deflect Oikawa. His foot caught on a body and he almost stumbled. Oikawa opened up his body to Force push him backward, but Iwaizumi flung his leg up, kicking Oikawa in the chest and sending him reeling away from him.

His arms went out to steady himself and Iwaizumi charged, landing a hard strike against Oikawa that brought their sabers crashing together, sparking as they shoved their strength against each other's blades. Iwaizumi grit his teeth, and Oikawa's eyes went wide and manic. He was enjoying this; he was _pleased_. Iwaizumi pushed down against the resistance, felt both of their shoulders shudder at the weight.

Then he caught a glimpse, movement out the corner of his eye. A mercenary hired for the Jedi stirred. He lifted his blaster, weakly aiming it at Oikawa's back.

For a moment, in a fleeting moment of panic, Iwaizumi was caught between whether or not he could let Oikawa die.

Then the trigger was pulled, the blaster shot loosed, and quicker than lightning Oikawa snapped an extra lightsaber off his belt, twirled the blade behind him, and deflected the shot directly into the mercenary's chest. All without taking his eyes off Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi felt his mouth loll open as Oikawa's lips sliced into a grin.

Oikawa shoved his arms forward, both of them in a single rush of power, and a wave of energy snapped forward and sent Iwaizumi careening backward.

Oikawa threw his extra lightsaber at Iwaizumi, the green blade twirling through the air, and Iwaizumi smacked it off to the side as he rose from his knees.

Oikawa flicked his hand outward and the grip snapped back into his palm as if held by a tether.

Each of Oikawa's hands held a saber, one red and one green, and he lowered them by his sides. Iwaizumi stared at him, huffing for breath, and wondered how Oikawa wasn't doing the same.

Slowly it dawned on him, cracking over his consciousness like the sun over a horizon, and Iwaizumi's eyes slid down to the handle of the green lightsaber.

It was old; it was scuffed and chipped, and the grip itself was a bit rough and unsightly. Iwaizumi blinked up at Oikawa, whose features had gone smug in all his smirking.

It was his first lightsaber. It was the lightsaber he made by hand, himself, so long ago during their training at the Jedi Temple. It was made with the most care a youngling could offer, and it was made directly beside the one Iwaizumi had clutched in his own hand.

"Out of fight already?" Oikawa asked in a low, breathy voice, the green blade shrinking into the hilt of his saber. He attached it back to his belt and brought the red one forward once more. He bit playfully at his lip before sinking back into his stance and cooing, " _How disappointing._ "

Iwaizumi glared at him. Oikawa was stronger with the Force. He was utilizing a stronger Form and he was _better_ at it than he had any right to be. But perhaps, maybe, Iwaizumi could bend him into submission with one strike.

Iwaizumi readied himself. Oikawa's eyebrow cocked up in intrigue.

Iwaizumi leapt upward, and when he came down it was in a full spin. He shot at Oikawa, slammed his saber against Oikawa's with every ounce of strength and momentum he could muster.

Oikawa actually shouted against the assault, and the ground he stood on fissured and ruptured beneath his feet. His shoulders reared back, the sabers _screamed_ in resistance as the energies fought to stop the intrusion of the other.

Oikawa's body was faltering, his arms shaking and teeth gritting together, and Iwaizumi could feel himself overpowering him. The cross-section of their blades lit up Oikawa's face, red and blue and purple flickering over fair skin and gold eyes.

" _Stop this_ ," Iwaizumi said, and it came out a whisper. It came out a request.

Oikawa blinked in quick succession. He shook his head, just a little, just enough to move his hair. Then his eyes grew wider, more manic, and Iwaizumi watched as his skin went pallid, veins pulsing black for just a heartbeat, and the crimson around his eyes lit like fire.

Oikawa shoved forward, a wave of energy thumping and further cracking the ground beneath their feet, and he overpowered Iwaizumi's position with one lunge forward.

Iwaizumi's arms shook, his lightsaber wavering, and he hissed breath into his mouth. Oikawa stared at him like he was studying a new creature he'd never seen before, bringing their faces close, too close.

Iwaizumi panted breath over Oikawa's face, and he felt his entire body tremble at the effort of holding back Oikawa's strength.

"Hajime," and Oikawa's voice came out just a bit soft, just a bit vulnerable even in spite of the grit of his teeth as his arms shook in response to the press of Iwaizumi's lightsaber against his own. The red blade shivered next to his face as he looked Iwaizumi in the eyes, "Come with me."

Iwaizumi knew his strength lessened because Oikawa's arm went steady, the crackling bite of the sabers against one another decreasing in volume. His heart seemed to cease beating.

_With you--_

Iwaizumi swallowed the beat of his heart. He blinked past the heat in his eyes. Oikawa was staring at him, and the hard eyes were molten again. Smoldering, but soft.

_You can't._

_You can._

_You can't._

Iwaizumi blinked, felt his grip going a bit slack. When his lips parted around silence he watched Oikawa's gold eyes flicker, almost flinch, from something confident to something...

hurt.

Iwaizumi opened his mouth, head tilting, notes in his throat rising and sounding far too much like pity to be safe, far too much like an apology to be acceptable, "O--"

Suddenly Iwaizumi's eyes flashed wide, his throat closing and abruptly cutting the passage of air to his lungs. He made a strangled sound, eyes burning as he took in Oikawa's face.

"I'm sorry Hajime," Oikawa said in a voice close to a whisper, and Iwaizumi could now see that Oikawa was reaching forward with his left hand. When his fingers flinched closer together Iwaizumi's throat closed tighter. Iwaizumi gasped, hand around his lightsaber loosening as his other moved up to grapple at his throat. Oikawa watched him, face wavering around something apologetic, the edges of the expression burning red with anger like the ring around his irises. "I just can't stand to hear you reject me again."

Iwaizumi's feet lifted from the ground with a raise of Oikawa's arm, and then Oikawa lurched forward and sent Iwaizumi's body sailing backward, slamming against the wall of the ship and hitting heavily against the ground.

The moment he felt the hard bite of the tile against his tailbone Iwaizumi's fingers clenched hard around his lightsaber. He planted his feet hard against the ground and burst forward, leaping with the propulsion of the Force at his back as he raised his lightsaber over his head to bear down on Oikawa.

Oikawa had to block the assault with both hands on the hilt of his saber, his entire body lurching backward as Iwaizumi came down on top of him. The hiss of the energy as their weapons clashed was bone rattling. Oikawa grit his teeth together, eyes going wide with something that looked like startled amusement, and forced all his strength into his shoulders to shove Iwaizumi backward and diminish the advantage of Iwaizumi's angle.

Iwaizumi took one staggering step backward but didn't pause; he came forward at a full offensive stance, and Oikawa did as well. Iwaizumi was sweating, smashing against Oikawa's saber with vicious force. Rather than a defensive parry Oikawa met his offense with offense, blades crashing together as they swung, sliced, cleaved through the air like they were trying to tear apart the atmosphere along with each other.

Iwaizumi used the entire strength of his back to slam his blade downward, once, twice, forcing Oikawa to hold his saber steady and horizontal in front of his face. Oikawa shoved his free hand forward and Iwaizumi's body lurched backward with the pressure of the Force knocking the air from his chest.

Oikawa reached forward to grapple him again, but Iwaizumi was already springing forward, feet flinging him over the ground like he could take flight. He caught Oikawa off guard, bore down against his blade with a single strike. Oikawa side stepped, catching Iwaizumi's blade in a parry that sang a seething electric song as the sabers tore against one another and Iwaizumi slid off to the side, ineffective.

He swung in a horizontal arc toward Oikawa, but Oikawa hopped backward and smacked Iwaizumi's saber in the direction it was already heading, tipping his balance. He then lunged forward, jabbing toward Iwaizumi's undefended chest. Iwaizumi ducked, then charged forward, tackling Oikawa at an upward angle. Oikawa fell backward, but kicked Iwaizumi off him without a moment's struggle. The Force behind the motion sent Iwaizumi careening into the air in the opposite direction. He landed heavy on his feet and drove forward as Oikawa stood. Oikawa met him with a sparking parry, then swung in toward his shoulder. Iwaizumi batted the attack away with all his strength, forcing Oikawa to stagger backward a step. They both shoved their right hands forward, a Force push unleashing from their palms at the same moment and snapping uselessly between them, cancelled out.

Iwaizumi came down again, from the top. Oikawa parried from beneath, shoving up against Iwaizumi's blade and making him stumble backward. Then Oikawa unleashed it all, flung his hand forward with a wave of energy that made Iwaizumi hit the back wall and empty his lungs. For a heartbeat he was deaf, blind, only sure he was still existing by the vertigo clenching his stomach. When light filtered back into his vision he coughed, head bobbing forward, and moved to stand on his knee.

Oikawa's eyes went wide and angry as he swung his arm downward. A wave of pressure smashed against Iwaizumi's chest as Oikawa bellowed, "STAY DOWN!" Iwaizumi went breathless for a moment, breathless enough for his arm to spasm and his saber to fall from his fingers.

"Give up!" Oikawa demanded, expression torn into fury.

Iwaizumi squinted against the pressure, fighting for air, and then the weight and force dispersed, released. Iwaizumi gulped air into his lungs, head ringing from the impacts. His limbs were heavy and tired, his mind going empty with all the Force he'd commanded in this battle alone.

Oikawa watched him for a moment, watched him with an unreadable expression, and then turned to leave.

"Why?" Iwaizumi managed to wheeze, using all his energy just to move sound from his chest. Oikawa's feet stilled. Iwaizumi panted, body sagging against the wall, " _Why_ did you leave?"

Iwaizumi didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't what he saw. When Oikawa turned his gaze back to him, his eyes were so bright, so blown open with rage and fury, that Iwaizumi felt the anger well up in his own chest like a disease.

" _WHY?_ " Oikawa shouted. Suddenly he was closing the distance, suddenly he was yanking at the cloth of Iwaizumi's robes and jarring his head forward. His eyes burned gold, vicious and horrible, and Iwaizumi couldn't help but think they were beautiful.

"Because of everything!" Oikawa shouted in his face, breath hot against Iwaizumi's flesh and voice ringing loud against his buzzing ears. Then his eyes narrowed, and he dipped so close to Iwaizumi that he could feel the thread of energy between their lips, the static of almost-touch prickling his entire body into heat. "Because of _this_ ," Oikawa hissed.

Iwaizumi raised his eyes. He looked into Oikawa's gaze and for a moment they were locked there. Their breathing was ragged, both of their chests heaving, and Iwaizumi was vaguely worried that the quiver of his heartbeat would show itself on his lip.

Oikawa blinked at him, then closed his mouth to swallow. His eyes weren't enraged anymore; they were clear and all-seeing, like he was trying to wind his way into Iwaizumi's head. He tipped his head, their noses touching against each other as their breaths spilled over the other's lips.

"For some reason," Oikawa whispered, voice more gentle than it had ever been in his whole life, "I'm not allowed to feel this."

Iwaizumi's next exhale was a shudder, and he felt his face tilting toward Oikawa, toward the warmth, toward his breath.

"What's wrong with this," Oikawa said almost directly against the corner of Iwaizumi's mouth. "What is so deplorable about _feeling?_ "

Iwaizumi's eyes were half lidded, his heart going so fast that a rhythm was almost impossible. The hand Oikawa had clutched in his robes shook, and then hesitantly slid upward. His thumb ran over Iwaizumi's jaw line, dragging impossible heat in its wake.

Iwaizumi's entire body shuddered, and he could almost taste it, almost taste the warmth of Oikawa's mouth against his own. He wanted... he _wanted--_

Iwaizumi turned his head, followed the spill of breath to inhale it into his own mouth, but Oikawa was leaning forward, and he whispered into his ear, " _I'll be here when you're not ashamed of feeling._ "

Then he stood, abrupt and straight, and marched toward the door. Iwaizumi watched him, eyes hopefully not betraying the wrenching twist in his chest, and when Oikawa threw a glance over his shoulder it was with the hard eyes he used for battle.

"One day you'll come to realize what I did," Oikawa said, staring down at him without a single trace of pity. "I _know_ you will." Iwaizumi thought of opening his mouth, but he didn't have any words ready, not a single thought at all. "Until then," Oikawa said, shaking out his shoulders and then sending a sharp glare at Iwaizumi, " _I'll do all the feeling for the both of us._ "

Then he turned around, raised his arms, and when he clenched his fists and strode forward the internal walls of the ship _buckled_.

Metal and concrete and plastic splintered all around Iwaizumi, crushing the internal structure and blocking any route for escape. Oikawa walked through the door in which they'd come, and when they hissed closed behind him the doorframe crunched inward, rendering them unusable.

Iwaizumi watched, mouth lolled open and insides weak and bruised, and then let his head loll back against the wall. Sparks flew and screeched from broken lines, metal creaked and groaned, but at least all of the alarms had gone silent.

Iwaizumi lifted his arm much more weakly than he'd like to admit. "I'm going to need extraction," he told his communicator simply. Somewhere in the background Iwaizumi thought he heard the sound of a ship departing. It was a moment later when he knew for sure, because he felt the throb of his chest ease gradually as time passed.

Iwaizumi stared at the room full of defeated Jedi. He wasn't bleeding, but he suddenly felt very, very cold.

He closed his eyes.

_I'll do all the feeling for the both of us._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> ...  
> [There's art now](http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/tagged/duel%20of%20the%20fates%20art).  
> I'm so happy I might be crying.
> 
> (There's also a [series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/351125) and a [prequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5189165) now; I obviously have no self control) 
> 
> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


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